The show went well. I remembered all of my lines and blocking, made sure to enunciate and to exaggerate my movements, everything that my mother had been teaching me since birth. At the curtain call I actually received a standing ovation and I exited the stage feeling very proud of myself.

I was only given a few moments in my dressing room alone before my mother came tramping in.

“So…” I said, already expecting a critique.

“Not bad,” she said with a shrug. “You were clearly bored in the second half though.”

“You could see that?” I said with mock astonishment and my mother chuckled. I laughed too. We didn’t do this often, have mother daughter alone time, but I always loved it. She was a great person to know.

“Ashley,” she said softly and I pulled myself from my thoughts. “You want to talk about what’s bothering you?” she asked and I stopped smiling. I hadn’t expected this. I looked from her face in the mirror before me to my hands. I began to grind my fingers together, and then winced at the action. Spencer had done it from time to time.

“It’s nothing,” I whispered and my mother exhaled. She wasn’t one for heartfelt conversations or even understanding for that matter. She was the master at living others people’s lives, not her own.

“Good. I told your father it was nothing.” she finished and then kissed the top of my head. She patted the strip of red hair down and then headed for the door. “We’ll wait for you in the lobby,” she said and then exited the room. I watched the door with a heavy heart. Why hadn’t I told her. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t understand. I had to tell someone. My chest was practically caving in from the pain. I didn’t know anything about these feelings, about love and loss and pain. I didn’t want to know them. I just wanted to know Spencer and her smile and her laugh.

There were two sharp knocks on the door and I said nothing, trying to catch my breath. Only Liza knocked like that. She knocked again and I simply sat there, not sure if I could handle her right now, but then she spoke.

“Ashums, open up,” she whined. I still sat, picturing her warm face and bottom lip curled under into a pout. She was good at that. “Ashley please.” she said flatly and I stood, stomping toward the door. I gripped the cold knob and yanked it open, but was surprised to find another girl standing beside Liza, a blonde a bit taller than me with blue eyes that ripped right through me and my stomach tightened instantly, a familiar ache.

“Hi Ashley,” the blonde said with a pained face and I swallowed, hard.

“Spencer…”